


Rose Gallery

by Stargatewars



Series: A Schitt Year [39]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 15:17:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20932370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stargatewars/pseuds/Stargatewars
Summary: An AU where David and Patrick meet in New York at David's gallery.





	Rose Gallery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoseApothecary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseApothecary/gifts).

> 'A Schitt Year' is a weekly series of stand alone stories focusing on the relationship between David and Patrick from Schitt's Creek.  
Prompts are welcome and encouraged because coming up with this many stories on your own isn't easy!  
All rating welcome. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thanks for the Prompt RoseApothecary!

David moved around the room, vibrating with nervous energy. He so badly wanted things to go well. Tonight was more important than any other night in his career. If tonight failed it was all over for him. He knew the stakes and had worked hard to ensure that he would succeed. Tonight would decide his fate.

After David found out that his parents had been buying his art, and patrons, David refused to accept any more help from them. He was determined to prove he could make it on his own, that his success was because of his skill, not his parents bankbook. He cut off all financial assistance from his family. Moving into a smaller apartment, shifting his large gallery to a smaller, more affordable venue. His hurt at his parents actions driving him.

Eli, his father's business manager, had offered David his services with his gallery. David had refused, determined to handle this himself. If Eli helped David felt as though his father would still be in control.

It didn't take him long to realise though that he did in fact need a business manager. Handling the finances was something that David couldn't get his head around. Three panic attacks later and he finally admitted defeat while staring at a confusing spreadsheet. The interviews for the position were tomorrow. He had four candidates he thought sounded promising. He’d never interviewed someone before, he worried he would be out of his depth.

But that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight was about the gallery opening. About showing everyone that he could do this on his own. And god he hoped he was right.

It was the first opening he had curated since he found out the devastating news. If tonight didn't go as he hoped then his worst fears would be realised. That he was a failure, that he couldn't achieve anything on his own.

People started filing into the gallery at 7pm. Right on schedule. 

David greeted his guests, shaking hands and kissing cheeks, pointing out specific pieces of art he thought they might like.

The guest list had taken him a long time to curate, ensuring a balance of old and new money, hoping to maximise his sales for the night.

For two hours he had decided, the gallery was only open to those on the guest list, creating an exclusive feel. After that he would allow a small section of the public to come in and see the art with the hopes of enticing new customers.

It didn't take long for David to lose track of time, between ensuring drinks and canapes were being sent out at an acceptable rate, discussing the art with potential buyers and fielding off sympathy or snide comments about his parents supposed support. With his smaller budget he had to do much more of the hands on work himself. As stressful as it was, David had to admit he was enjoying himself. The adrenaline of the night ran through him.

David sold three paintings in the first two hours. Marking each one as sold felt like a victory. He turned and smiled happily at those around him, but registered that none of them were invested like he was in the success of the gallery.

When David had cut himself off from his family's fortune he had lost a lot of people he considered friends. They told him he was stupid for pushing away the money. That he would regret it. It had taken him a while, but he soon realised that they were encouraging him to keep the money for themselves. It had nothing to do with how David felt about the situation.

David had tried to prepare himself for people coming just to gawk at him after the news that his parents had paid for everything came out. He wasn’t however prepared for just how many comments and looks he would experience.

Overwhelmed by once again having to fake laugh about his parents well-intended deception David moved to the back of the gallery, hoping for some privacy, for a moment to breathe. The crowd had started to thin, people moving onto other parties, giving David enough of a break to move away and try and catch his breath.

As he made his way to his office at the back of the gallery, hoping for five minutes alone, he noticed a man standing alone looking confused as he stared up at a large painting.

David took a breath to steady himself and began to walk over. He knew how important each sale was, how one customer could change the course of his night, his career, his life.

As David got closer he took the man in. Short brown hair, soft features as he looked at the art, his face turned slightly away. Casting his eyes down David noticed the blue button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbow. Further still, David took in the straight legged, midrange denim jeans, hugging his hips, legs and ass. David lifted his eyebrows as he looked slightly too long at the curve of this strangers ass. Filling out the jeans in a wholly amazing way. But David realised something else too. There was no way that painting was within this guys budget. You didn’t dress like that if you could afford this type of art.

David wondered for a moment if he could back away, if he could make his escape. Leave the man to admire the unattainable art in peace. At that moment the man turned. His bright brown eyes landing on David. He smiled.  _ Crap  _ David thought to himself, unsure if it was because he was too slow to get away, or the way the man's eyes fell on him.

‘Hi,’ David said. The man’s smile broadened.

‘Hi,’ he replied.

‘How are you finding things tonight? Hope you’re enjoying the art,’ David waved a hand towards the piece before them.

‘It’s… yeah, interesting stuff,’ the man nodded.

‘This piece is a neo traditional representation of the birth of jesus,’ David said tearing his gaze from the man before him to look at the piece on the wall.

‘Yeah… I can’t really tell, Jesus looks a bit like a potato to be honest,’ he said, looking up at the art. David hated to admit it but the man was right. Jesus did kind of look like a potato in it.

‘Well I’m sure the artist had his reasons,’ David replied dryly.

‘Please don’t tell me you’re the artist,’ the man said.

‘No… I’m David, David Rose,’ he held out his hand.

‘Patrick,’ the man, Patrick, took it, ‘this is your gallery.’ It wasn’t so much a question as a statement. David’s name was on the door after all.

‘Yep, but don’t worry I won’t tell the artist,’ David smiled.

‘Good to know,’ Patrick replied. 

‘So what brings you here? Looking for a new piece of art for yourself? Ideal curiosity? Come to make fun of the art?’ David watched as the man stuffed his hands into his pockets.

‘Just passing through,’ Patrick replied, ‘it’s a nice place you have here David.’

‘Thanks,’ David smiled, he felt his cheeks redden. He wasn’t sure why but he instantly felt like his world had been knocked off centre as he stood with Patrick.

'Have you been here long?' Patrick asked, his brown eyes glancing around the room before falling back to David.

'Here? Not long. I moved over from a few streets up,' he explained, not wanting to have to tell this stranger his embarrassing past.

'I heard someone mention something about that,' Patrick nodded. David bit his lip, waiting for a snide comment to fall from Patrick's mouth.

'Oh?' David said when the silence went on too long and it became clear Patrick wasn't about to say any more.

'Yeah, you seem to be doing ok now though,’ Patrick said. He offered David a kind smile. David realised it was Patrick’s way of telling David that he knew. Knew about his past. Knew about what his parents had done. Knew he was in the process of starting again. And unlike everyone else that had spoken to David about it, Patrick didn’t judge. He didn’t seem to think David was stupid for not realising what his parents had been doing. Didn’t think David was just another rich kid faking it through life. In the few minutes that they had spoken David already felt more comfortable with Patrick than he did with people that he would have considered his friends before this started.

‘Thanks,’ David said turning his eyes away embarrassed by the compliment, but not being able to keep them off Patrick for long.

‘You've got something really special here David. I mean I don't know much about art, obviously, but you're doing a great job,' Patrick seemed sincere. Something David hadn't experienced a lot of before. 

They stared at each other for a moment, longer than would be considered normal. David thought he saw Patrick’s gaze dart briefly to look at David’s lips. David pushed the thought from his mind, pushed the way his heart raced and fingers twitched back down. No way this cute guy would be interested in someone like David Rose, he justified.

‘So is there any other art you like here? Or do they all look like potatoes to you?’ David turned, not being able to handle the heat of Patrick’s stare.

‘No,’ Patrick laughed, ‘no potatoes. I umm.. I like that blue one in the corner.’ He nodded behind David. David looked over his shoulder to the canvas across the room. It was probably the most tradition piece of art in the room, various blue oil paints applied heavily. They walked over and stood in front of it.

‘It’s by a Canadian artist,’ David explained.

‘It’s very impressive,’ Patrick said. David turned to look at Patrick and found Patrick already looking at him, his eyes soft. David instantly felt heat rising inside him.

‘Are you… are you looking for a new piece of art?’ David asked, his voice shaking. He pushed his thoughts down, reassuring himself that surely Patrick wouldn’t be interested in him. That maybe he really did come for the artwork after all.

‘I don’t think any of the stuff here would work at my place. I’m renting a room actually, so don’t have a lot of free space,’ Patrick rocked back on his heels.

‘Renting a room?’ David repeated.

‘Yeah. I’ve actually not been in New York long,’ Patrick replied.

‘Oh?’ David said. He wasn’t surprised though. Looking at Patrick it didn’t take long to realise that he wasn’t from somewhere like New York.

‘I don’t think my housemate would appreciating me spending my rent money on something like this,’ Patrick said with a laugh.

‘Housemate? Not your girlfriend?’ David wanted to hit himself for saying it. He tried to clamp his mouth shut before the words escaped but it was too late. They were out there now.

‘No… no girlfriend. Just me,’ Patrick looked down at his shoes, David catching the slight reddening of his cheeks.

‘And the housemate,’ David offered.

‘Yeah. And the housemate,’ Patrick laughed softly.

‘Did you want me to show you some other pieces?’ David asked, not quite ready to end his conversation with Patrick.

‘I’d love that,’ Patrick’s smile only broadened.

The rest of the night followed with David and Patrick walking around looking at the art together. David spent much of his time waxing lyrical about some of the pieces he had displayed, while trying not to read too much into way that Patrick looked at him.

Occasionally David would be called away to speak with a patron. Each time David expected to look up and find Patrick gone. Instead each time he would find Patrick waiting happily for him, looking intently at a sculpture or painting, making David’s heart beat just that little bit faster.

He fought the urge to read too much into the fact that whenever David made his way back to Patrick, Patrick’s smile broadened.

Patrick’s fingers grazed David’s when he was handed a glass of champagne. David felt a jolt run through him, his attraction to this man building faster and easier than he would care to admit.

‘I should probably let you go,’ Patrick said finally. David looked up from the sculpture to see Patrick looking at him.

‘Oh, sure. I’ve probably annoyed you enough tonight,’ David said with a disappointed laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed someone's company so much.

‘No, it’s just that it’s getting late,’ Patrick nodded to the rest of the room. David looked around. Only a few people remained. David hadn’t even realised how empty the room had become.

‘Late,’ David nodded, not wanting to admit to Patrick that an early night for David was going to sleep by 2am.

They paused, a silence building between them. Patrick smiled, his eyes shifting, David thought, down to look at David’s lips, before snapping back up. More than anything David wanted to lean in and kiss Patrick. They may have only met a few hours before, but David was finding he was more comfortable with Patrick than he had been with anyone for a long time, maybe forever.

Patrick took a breath before offering his hand. David took it, feeling the soft, yet firm skin pressed against his own.

‘See you around David,’ Patrick said, still holding his hand.

‘I hope so,’ David said. Squeezing Patrick’s hand one last time before letting go.

Patrick opened his mouth to speak, but shut it instead clenching his jaw.

‘Goodnight David,’ Patrick turned and walked away. More than anything David wanted to chase Patrick, to stop him leaving.

As Patrick walked out the door and disappeared from view David felt disappointment wash over him. He hadn’t even asked for his number, he realised. Maybe he was just being polite, maybe he was interested, but without a number David thought he would never find out.

David returned to the few people that remained in the gallery. He felt bad for neglecting his hosting duties for half the night but when he thought about the way Patrick looked at him and he didn’t regret a thing.

Finally all that was left was his assistant. Over the night they had sold six pieces. All of David’s conservative hopes had been blown away. He was elated. Moments later his assistant was waving goodbye leaving David standing alone in the large gallery.

Somehow the success of the night felt hollow with no one to share it.

Instead of going to a club or party, like he had planned at the start of the night, David returned home.

David lay in bed that night, staring at his high vaulted ceiling, listening to the city outside his window, thinking about a man in a blue button-down and what the lost opportunity might have been.

***

‘Your next interview is here,’ David’s assistant said, leaning into his office.

‘Send him in,’ David said. He slumped in his chair for a moment. The last three interviews had been a catastrophe. The first interview had laughed at David’s incompetence in handling business and about how easily he had been manipulated by his family. The second had offered to suck him off for the position. The third had fumbled so badly they started to cry halfway through the interview then ran out of the building. David had no hope that his fourth and final interview would be any better. A part of him started to wonder if he should accept Eli’s help.

Sitting up David dragged his hand across his face, bracing himself for the onslaught of what the final interview would bring.

'Hi,' a familiar voice came from the doorway.

Dropping his hands David looked up to see the man from last night, Patrick, standing there. His heart leapt into his throat. Patrick wore a similar outfit to last night. The straight legged midrange denim jeans were back. He wore a light blue button-down with a dark blue blazer. He looked amazing. His soft brown eyes made David's heart beat just as fast as it did last night.

'Hi… again,' David breathed, his voice failing him.

‘Patrick,’ he said holding out his hand as he stepped forward.

‘I remember,’ David replied, shaking Patrick’s hand, the same spark running through him now as it did the night before.

‘How did last night go?’ he asked taking a seat across the desk.

‘Really well. We sold six pieces,’ David said with a smile. His stomach flipping as he said  _ we _ .

‘That’s fantastic David. You deserve it,’ Patrick returned the smile.

‘So last night? You were what? Scouting out the place?’ David asked.

‘I was just curious about what the gallery was like, and thought I’d have a look. I’m sorry. I should have said,’ Patrick blushed.

‘No, it’s… it’s a good idea. See if you like the look of the place before working there,’ David reached over and grabbed Patrick’s resume, his mind racing. Was the attraction all one sided? Was Patrick just being nice last night, or was he flirting like David had hoped? Or worse still was he flirting with David just to get the position?

‘So,’ David said looking down at Patrick’s resume. He traced his fingers across the neat font, across Patrick’s name, ‘you studied business at Trent University and up until… three weeks ago worked at a Munro Consulting in Toronto.’

‘That’s right,’ Patrick nodded, his smile distracting David more than it should have.

‘Ok. Good. So… why did you leave your last job? And Toronto?’ David asked, realising that he hadn’t actually thought about what questions to ask. The other interviews had gone sideways so quickly he had barely been able to ask anything.

‘I… umm,’ he looked at David. For the first time since they met, which to be fair wasn’t all that long, David saw a shadow pass over Patrick’s eyes, like he was trying to decide what to say, ‘I needed a change. I’d just ended a long-term relationship and wanted to have a new start,’ Patrick clenched his jaw.  _ Long-term relationship _ . The words ran through David’s head, trying desperately not to overreact.

‘Oh, ok. Should I be worried then? About you going back to Toronto?’ David asked, fear ran through him at the thought of Patrick leaving, even though he knew he had no right to feel that. He barely even knew Patrick.

‘No David. I have a feeling I’m exactly where I need to be,’ Patrick looked at him, the warmness from the night before returning to his eyes.

‘Good,’ David looked down, hoping it hid his blush, ‘so why do you want to work with me… for me?’

‘Can I be honest David?’ he asked. David nodded.

‘I don’t know anything about art,’ Patrick said.

‘Oh I know that,’ David replied with a smile.

‘I just thought it would be a good change for me. I want to help you build something. I think you've got something really special here. I can help you here David, if you’ll have me,’ it was Patrick’s turn to blush. David studied the man in front of him. Studied the apparent contradictions of him. The lines of his blue jacket and the soft brown of his eyes. His apparent confidence, but something akin to nerves bubbling below the surface.

'Ok,' David said nodding.

'Ok?' Patrick cocked his head.

David stood, the desk between them. Patrick rose to his feet.

‘Welcome to Rose Gallery then,’ David held out his hand. He was proud of himself. He’d never hired someone on his own before and looking at Patrick smiling back at him he was sure he’d made the right choice.

Patrick smiled broadly, taking David's hand in his own.

Standing there looking at each other, David couldn't help feeling that this would be the start of something special.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic comments and/or kudos are much appreciated. I'd love to know your thoughts!  
If you have any prompts for the future please comment below or contact me on Tumblr at @stargatewars


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